


Dad Skills

by impossiblesongs



Series: Pages Left To Write On (We Will Fill It With Words) [8]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, I live a Pond Appreciation Life, I was beginning to think I'd never find inspiration for a Pond-Centric fic again but it turns out, and also the Tardis loves Rory Pond don't forget it kbye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5061193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblesongs/pseuds/impossiblesongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Right, one other question,” Rory points a finger up towards the spinning bit located at the top of the Doctor’s new console room. “Where’s River’s name?”</i> – The Ponds are vacationing and the Doctor receives an unexpected visit from his father-in-law.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dad Skills

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Not my characters. This has been a disclaimer.
> 
>  **AN:** This takes place somewhere in-between the Series 6 finale ‘TWORS’ to the Christmas Special ‘The Doctor, The Widow  & The Wardrobe’ (aka the 2 years it took the Eleventh Doctor to show up on the Pond’s doorstep on Christmas, which I believe to be the year 2011 for the Ponds ???)
> 
> Also (with the Twelfth Doctor's Tardis) [the names of all the companions](https://i.kinja-img.com/gawker-media/image/upload/s--LEP8B5HF--/c_fill,fl_progressive,g_north,h_358,q_80,w_636/187q3apdtti38jpg.jpg) the Doctor has traveled with appear at the top of the control console written in Gallifreyan I believe, all except River's and has bothered me for quite a while so I created a solution. 
> 
> Enjoy ?

**_November 2011_ **

 

River hadn’t been in touch for a while now. Experiencing younger versions of the Doctor, she’d said. Their daughter made a habit of dropping by to tell her parents all about it when she could and then they’d all reminisce over how time had passed with a good bottle of red. All the while River would eventually have to urge them to believe that their beloved Raggedy Man was still out there somewhere. That he wasn’t dead. It got harder to believe their daughter the more than time passed.

 

It was only upon their daughter’s insistence the Doctor lived that the Ponds had yet to give up on all hope. That said, they could only keep their lives on hold for so long. However reluctant they were to do so at first, Rory and Amy had started to move forward. Joining in on the lives they’d skipped out on for a life with the Doctor.

 

It happened slowly. Rory taking the least amount of hours at the hospital and Amy opting to stay at home. To be the loving housewife there to greet him at the end of the day. That didn’t fool anyone, though. Amy was firmly standing still, _waiting_.

 

Rory would find her like that when he came home after his shifts. Amy seemed to only exist passing obsessively by the front window of their new home, always with an ear out, waiting for signs that their Raggedy Doctor would to return to them with an offer and a trip to wherever-the-hell-it-was he had planned this time. It was River who eventually gotten fed up with her mother’s waiting, doing what Rory hadn’t the heart in him to do and urging Amy to do something with her time other than wait. River said something about how _the Doctor wouldn’t want this_. It was truth in their daughter's reasoning that snapped Amy right out of it.

 

Normal Life they had not been accustomed to. Neither Rory nor Amy knew how to adjust at first. Calm and constant felt simply bizarre and everyday life seemed a puzzle. To their delighted surprise, the Ponds happily came to find that day-to-day continuity could prove to be no less of an adventure than their life with the Doctor had been.

 

 

;;

 

 

Now, two years later, and here they were. The Ponds had finally made it to Venice. _Proper_ Venice, in present day, on planet Earth. Not a fishy vampire in sight, thank you very much. All courtesy of their beloved daughter as a belated anniversary present.

 

Rory couldn’t be more pleased with the turn out. Amy and Venice. _Finally_! Not that he didn’t love travelling with the Doctor, he did, but the Doctor wasn’t prone to taking what one would call a ‘normal’ vacation.

 

Rory and Amy found themselves appreciating the people and culture of Venice with the same awe they had appreciated the distant planets and races found all across time and space. Two lovely weeks of romantic candlelit dinners and serene outings with the stars shining down upon them, Amy’s red hair glistening under the moonlight. If he were being completely honest, Rory would say it was this time together, enjoying such simplicities on little planet Earth with his wife, that he and Amy realized they could more than just settle. They could live like this, _with_ this. They’d become all the closer for it. So long as they had each other, nothing – not even the humdrum repetition of everyday life – could be anything less than amazing.

 

 

;;

 

 

Their last day in Venice, Amy was well satisfied and running up the phone bill in their five-star room. She gushed over the trip to their daughter, who was on some planet or other and by the sounds of explosions in the background in a very distressing predicament. It had Rory feeling a bit Fatherly-Anxious and helpless in his place. He was struck with the sudden urge to go out and fetch some more of those fabulous Italian Chocolates just down the corner shop, if only for something to do.

 

“Oh, and you know your father and his sweet tooth,” Amy spoke into the receiver. “Just guess what he’s off to do now?”

 

“It’s not like I’m going to be long,” Rory grimaced, pulling on his coat. “I know this city like the back of my hand.”

 

“Your father says he’s not going to get lost this time,” Amy informed their daughter. Whatever the reply, she broke out into giggles.

 

“Might also take another whirl around the city,” he added offhandedly.

 

Amy arched a brow at him. “Just don’t fall into the water this time. Kay, Centurion?” his wife winked.  

 

Rory rolled his eyes, muttering _that was only one time_ under his breath.

 

For all her comments, Amy waved him away happily and continued her retellings to their daughter. On his way out Rory couldn’t help smiling at how carefree Amy looked, reminding himself that this had been _such_ a normal vacation. Amy was placing a normal phone call to their daughter to tell her all about how their vacation was turning out. River’s current location was about the only abnormal detail this whole equation. Still, it felt lovely.

 

Rory locates his first destination easily and exits the tiny shop with a bag of chocolaty goodness, deciding to take a trip on one of the gondolas for his last night and nicking chocolates from the bag at random while he does so. It’s while he’s preoccupied fishing around for yet another chocolate to steal away and pop into his mouth that he almost misses it. The bluest blue, hiding away at the corner of a little pizza shop, snugged right under a streetlight.

 

With his eyes so focused and leaning forward in direction of the familiar blue box, Rory nearly loses hold of his chocolates. They topple over in his grasp and his body flails without control, trying to keep hold of them. The uneven balance manages to sway the gondola along with him. Thankfully, the gondolier turns out to be experienced with such unsteady customers and pulls Rory back with a rough tug to his jacket, holding Rory steady until the gondola is once again at peace with the water.

 

“Sorry,” Rory apologizes sheepishly to the scowling gondolier, holding his chocolates close to his chest in a death grip. He then points to an area closest to the blue box by foot, “Just, erm, pull up here. If you wouldn’t mind.”

 

The gondolier does just that. Moving over to the city’s solider areas and waiting for Rory to get out of his hair once and for good. He’s still sneering when he edges away again.

 

Rory makes sure he has a sturdy hold on his chocolates and quickly walks over towards the Tardis, a fond smile breaking across his face the closer he gets. When he reaches those blissful blue doors Rory wants to laugh, to cry. To rage at the Doctor for staying away for so long but something is calming him.

 

Rory Williams knocks twice and finds he doesn’t have to wait long. The doors pop open for him, just an inch. Rory pushes inward and walks right inside.

 

Everything’s wrong. And by wrong, Rory supposes the right word would be: _different_. Starting from the Tardis layout and ending with the face of the man looking back at him from behind the console.

 

“Rory Pond,” says the very much older, gray haired man. The voice is gruff and accusatory but also grief-stricken, the eyes are both glaring at Rory and plainly agonized at the sight of him.

 

Rory promptly drops his chocolates, stepping over them and squinting at the man in front of him. “Doc…tor?”

 

The unfamiliar man moves towards Rory slowly, more of a creep than a walk. Every step placed forward reminds Rory of a man reluctantly approaching a ghost rather than that of a man greeting his friend.

 

“You died,” Rory blurts the obvious, instantly regretting it because the man in front of him, the man who is most certainly the Doctor, recoils. “Sorry,” apologizes Rory. “I didn’t mean, no… well, I mean,” he gestures at the new body accompanying the new face, changing his mind in all of an instant. “No, you know what? I’m not sorry! You have.” Rory suddenly finds himself filled with anger than lights within him, a fury he’s not accustomed to. "You haven't even let us know!” he thundered. “We’re your family, we’re _supposed_ to be your family and you’ve not even called on us, not once! All the while you’ve been off gallivanting across time and space on your big Time Lord adventures, I bet. No need for human distractions. And we, all three of us, have been out of our minds worried sick about you! And _Amy_! Oh, god Amy,” Rory trailed off, shaking his head, positively livid.

 

“Rory,” this unknown Doctor rasps. It is a weighted drawl Rory is entirely unused to. “That is not what happened.”

 

“You’re Scottish now,” states Rory, caught off guard by the fact before shaking his befuddlement away. He scoffs, “Amy’ll love that, at least.”

 

“Amelia cannot know, she can’t,” the Doctor looks away. “You’re… what are you _doing_ here?” the Doctor cries in frustration. The sound unnerves Rory enough to focus past his own reaction.

 

“Doctor, are you alright?” he asks, not sure if approaching the Time Lord would be the best choice of action.

 

“You’re here, and you can’t be,” comes the Doctor’s reply. Resigned and positively devastated. “Rory,” the Doctor says again, though he won’t quite look at him. “How are you here?”

 

Stifling the urge he has to find out what exactly the Doctor is lying about, Rory decides answering the question asked is a good start towards finding out.

 

“I’m here on vacation, sort of. River’s got us a trip to Venice as an anniversary present.” Rory does not miss how the Doctor reacts at his daughter’s name. Slight as the flinch was on this new face it doesn’t make a difference. Simply put, Rory knows the man standing in front of him and so he notices.

 

Rory walks up to the console very slowly, placing distance between himself and the Time Lord for a moment. Maybe it will be easier for the Doctor to talk to him if he’s not facing him.

 

“It looks rubbish,” Rory comments at the layout, hearing an answering huff not far off behind him.

 

“Did I ask for an opinion?” the Doctor’s tone is lighter and he’s joined Rory at the console, lingering a few paces beside.

 

“You never did,” Rory nodded to the fact. “Probably why you need them so often, if we’re being honest.”

 

A glance over at the Doctor reveals he finds that comment amusing and so some of the tension starts to ease. With a clearing of his throat, the Doctor asks on how the vacation is going so far and Rory catches on quickly that the man is not a big conversationalist this go ‘round.

 

Rory shrugs, “It’s going fine, yeah. Great. We head back home tomorrow morning so, last night out.”

 

“And you decided one more trip around the sights, eh?” the Doctor is smiling to himself almost fondly and Rory takes that as encouragement.

 

“Doctor,” Rory watches the Time Lord tense, however he’s smarter than that. He’s been at the Doctor side through many things and he’s not under the impression that he’ll get any sort of a definite answer. He’s well versed on ‘Rule One’ and ‘Spoilers.’ He’s had to be. Rory knows there are things the Doctor cannot talk about, nor will he make him. He does know how to get the answer he needs, though. “Am I still older than you?”

 

It starts slowly, a soft chortling sound, barely registering, and it gains and gains until the Doctor has to keep his hands flat on the console to support himself, shoulders shaking, tears of absolute joy streaking down his face. He cannot control the laughter that has bubbled up and over, and neither can Rory. 

 

“Oh, I didn’t know I needed that.” Says the Doctor, wiping away any remaining tears from his face and catching his breath once the laughter dies down. He pats Rory’s back without any of the reservation Rory had noticed when he’d first come into the Tardis. “You have no idea how much, Rory Pond. Thanks for that.”

 

The Doctor moves around his console with the pace of a much younger man and Rory can't help but grin, because the motions of this man standing in front of him are very much reminiscent of his bowtie wearing son-in-law.

 

Musing over it to himself, Rory looks up and blinks. The Tardis is translating for him and the circular figures at the top of the control console form into letters. Letters that spell out words. Names. Some Rory knows, some he’s never heard of, all existing there except one.

 

“Right, one other question,” Rory points a finger up towards the spinning bit located at the top of the Doctor’s new console room. “Where’s River’s name?”

 

Owlish eyes peer back at him. “What?”

 

“Up there, the names,” Rory explains. “I presume all of your companions are up there. What I want to know is, where's my daughter’s name?”

 

The Doctor swallows and straightens himself out. “So the Old Girl is translating things behind my back, wonderful.”

 

“As River’s father, I have the right to ask on it.” Rory points out. “It’s good to know at least one of you agrees with me.”

 

The Doctor stares at him. “Very well, then.” He pulls a lever, glaring at the Tardis, and the words above disappear back into the circles that had been before. The Doctor approaches Rory slowly, a deep frown on his face and his hands clasped together. “Hold out your hand,” the Doctor instructs and Rory does. Something tiny is dropped into the center of his palm.

 

Rory looks down at a ring in astonishment, “You have a wedding band now?”

 

The Doctor says nothing, instead dipping his head in inclination to the ring and Rory brings it to eyesight in order to examine it more carefully. On the inside there is an inscription, tiny as can be. Though the name is written in similar Gallifreyan fashion Rory knows what it says. The Doctor, the one before this one, had written it out many times. Mostly with accompanying doodles whilst he sat eating jammie dodgers. 

 

“Happy?” the Doctor rasps, a hint smug.

 

Rory returns the ring to the Doctor and the Time Lord fixes it back on his ring finger.

 

“You really are older, aren’t you?” Rory declares, watching the Doctor closely.

 

The Doctor shrugs and doesn't meet his eye. “Time happens to us all, Rory.” He says. “Even me.”

 

A million things flash in front of Rory’s eyes. Things that must have happened for the Doctor to end up here, with a different face, and there is no way to stop it. Not if it has already happened. Not if Rory has ended up here, face to face with this Doctor in front of him. It’s a rather terrifying feeling. “You are… you’re okay, though. Aren’t you? You’re not alone?”

 

The Doctor dismisses that with a curl of his lips and half-smile, “Don’t you worry about me, Rory. Besides shouldn’t the wife be wondering where you are by now?”

 

Rory’s mind floods back to Amy.

 

“She can’t know, Rory,” the Doctor tells him quietly, as if reading the direction his thoughts were heading. “She can’t know I’ve... changed.”

 

“Timelines?” Rory guessed.

 

“I wouldn’t ask for anything less,” confirms the Doctor. “If you don’t mind, I do have someone who will come in through that Tardis door sometime tonight and if you’re still here she’ll not shut up until I explain your presence. Bossy like that, she is.”

 

Rory saddens to hear the time to part has come, especially when realizing just how much he’d missed his son-in-law, different as he is now. “I think I like the sound of her then," he says. 

 

The Doctor rolls his eyes, “Of course you do. You would.”

 

“Someone ought to be around to remind you that you aren’t the most important thing in the universe,” Rory mutters.

 

The Doctor does not dispute. “Indeed they should.”

 

Rory nods his goodbye, collects his forgotten chocolates from where he’d dropped them and heads for the doors.

 

“Christmas,” the Doctor speaks from behind him. Rory turns to find the Doctor looking at something in the monitor. He's smiling wistfully, eyes glistening with what looks to be tears. “Set a plate,” the Doctor says.

 

Rory takes an understanding to what the Doctor is giving him and lets out an exhale of relief he hadn't known he was holding. “You should know by now, Doctor, that we always do.”

 

He exits the Tardis. 

 

Amy’s already fast asleep when Rory returns to their room, which gives him time to process the events of the night. He keeps his word the following day and doesn’t tell her about meeting the Doctor again on their last night in Venice. Rory trusts in the Doctor having a good reason for asking him to keep silent and when Christmas day comes along the Doctor proves good on his promise.

 

Their Raggedy Man comes back to them, bowtie and all.


End file.
